Adebayo waved a hand dismissively. ‘We don’t need him anymore; he has signed the forms, we have the pictures, so we just need to go through the forms with Jeta and get her to sign. The next thing will be to go to the registry office and book the wedding, but Emmanuel will help on the day for that. We have a friendly face there who doesn’t ask too many questions. Will you be her witness on the day to translate?’

Tom shrugged. ‘Maybe. Depends on whether the brothers are back from overseas.’

‘Whatever. Anyway, I just need Jeta to hang around until these papers are finished so she can sign, and then you’re done. I have her passport: Mira was good enough to post it to me. I tell you what, Tomo, can you run and get us three coffees from over the road and I will do this now, so it’s all done. We don’t need an interpreter for this bit.’ He smiled a slightly unpleasant smile.

Tom thought it through. It didn’t sound quite right, but he didn’t want to risk a confrontation in the office while the camera was rolling.

‘Okay. I need to make a call, anyway.’

Tom descended the shabby staircase, an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach; he didn’t trust Adebayo or his brother one bit. Rather than let the door lock behind him he propped it open with a doormat, so he wouldn’t need to be buzzed back in. He went and picked up three coffees from the nearby shop that had a Costa machine and paid at the counter. He returned to the office within ten minutes and climbed the stairs quietly. Something wasn’t right. He had a niggling feeling that had been bothering him since he left the office. Then it hit him. There was only one reason why Adebayo would want Jeta alone, and it wasn’t a good one. He walked quickly towards the office and was met by Emmanuel, stood outside like a bouncer at a nightclub door.

‘How did you get back in?’ he asked with a note of aggression in his voice.

‘Door was open. Where’s Jeta?’

‘In with the boss, do not disturb just yet.’

‘I’m not happy about that, Emmanuel. She’s not a working girl,’ said Tom, not taking his eyes off him.

Emmanuel just laughed. ‘She’s a whore just like all the others, Tomo. Mira always lets the boss sample the goods: perk of the job.’ He sneered at Tom, almost challenging him to try to get past him.

A scream of, ‘Molim vas pomozite, ne, Tomo! Help, please, no, Tomo!’ erupted from within the office.

‘Step aside, Emmanuel,’ said Tom in a low, impassive voice, fixing the other man with an even, unrelenting gaze. He was getting Jeta out; no way would he let her get raped in there.